Little Blue Skirt
by Gueniver
Summary: Not to spoil it but this IS from the Protesting Natures Universe. Christine comes to tell Spock that they are headed to Vulcan in that little blue skirt.


Little Blue Skirt

Rated M for sexual content

By Gueniver

Disclaimer: Paramount owns all things Trek. This is a work of fan fiction that takes place in my imaginary Protesting Natures Universe. Feedback requested.

Christine Chapel tugged nervously at the short skirt of her nurse's uniform wishing for the millionth time that it covered more than it did.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

A voice down the hall signaled an approaching crewman. If she was going to do it, now was the time.

She quickly raised a hand and keyed a medical override to his quarters and ducked in.

It was warm.

That was the first sensation that she had.

She was nervous.

That was the all too real second sensation.

His quarters were dim and warm and thick with the scent of incense. She recognized the rare Vulcan resins wafting up from the firepot in the corner. Its eerie light cast shadows on the wall. Flickering dancing demons of sexual tension.

She could hear his breath from the corner of the room where he lay awake.

She knew he was awake and she didn't want to startle him.

It wasn't too late, she thought silently. She could still just leave. No one need know she had ever come.

After only a moment's hesitation, she drew herself up tall and moved decisively to the dark alcove where he slept. She reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. Her heart pounded in her throat. She couldn't believe she was here, couldn't believe she was really doing this.

Then she froze and pulled away suddenly. She moved to leave as silently as she could, a part of her hoping he would turn over on the bed and call her back to him.

"Miss Chapel?" His voice came from the corner almost too quiet for her to hear.

Almost, but not quite. "Yes, Mr. Spock?" She turned to face him, steeling herself for his reaction to her presence here in his quarters.

Then his voice pierced the darkness, velvet baritone. "I had the most startling dream." He rolled over on his bed to face her.

Her hand came up to her heart involuntarily. She couldn't speak, didn't know what she would say even if she could.

"You were trying to tell me something, but I couldn't hear you." He rose up from the bed and took a step toward her, hands clenched tightly behind his back. "It would be illogical for us to protest against our natures. Don't you think?"

"I-I don't understand." She stammered not understanding his meaning. Protest? What was she protesting?

He raised a hand to he cheek. His touch soft and steady. "Your face is wet."

Her chest tightened at the sound of his words, as if they held some sort of hidden seduction. **Wet** she thought. **Yes**, **wet**. She swallowed hard and finally spoke, "I – I've come to tell you. We're headed to Vulcan. We should be there in two days."

"Vulcan." He nodded and she could almost taste the sorrow of the word.

It was a barren empty world that held no love for him. It broke her heart to think of it. She turned away again, to hide the sadness in her eyes.

"Miss Chapel?" His voice was soft again. She thought she could hear a quiet plea there.

"My name is Christine." She didn't bother to hide her feelings.

He made a small sound, amusement? Acceptance? She couldn't tell. "Yes I know, Christine. Would you make me some of that plomeek soup?"

She smiled in spite of her embarrassment. "Oh yes, Mr. Spock. I'd be honored."

She suddenly felt a rush of memory and fear. She could hear the condescending tone of McCoy's words _Plomeek_ _soup, and I bet you made it_. With that stupid grin on his face. She brushed it aside. What did McCoy know? She moved decisively now to the door.

Perhaps he thought she was leaving, and that is why he stepped forward to follow her. It certainly appeared that she was moving to leave. To go out to some magical place of culinary art and produce the comforting concoction. But instead she raised a hand to the security lock at the door. Both the corridor and the lavatory door were sealed. No one could enter without a command override.

She turned purposefully to the nearest replicator, the one in the small anteroom to his quarters. It was identical in every way to the one in her quarters, except perhaps in the amount of usage it saw.

It wasn't all that difficult to replicate the soup. She had done all the hard work in advance, carefully researching the hundreds of recipes available, creating and tasting every attempt. Her final product had been a combination of more than one recipe and it was logged, as so many food files were, in a public file.

She pressed the replicator button and summoned 'Chapel, Christine - Hot Soup – Plomeek number 14'. A moment later the soup appeared in the open chute.

She turned with the bowl in hand, steam rising in delicious waves.

Spock still stood in the center of the room, watching, waiting.

She placed the soup on the desktop and turned to face him. "There you go, Mr. Spock. I hope you like it." She held his gaze despite the coil of anxiety in her belly.

Hands locked behind his back, he spoke once again. His voice was seduction itself, "It is inappropriate for a man to be served by a woman who is not his." It was a statement of fact, but there was a softly dangerous undercurrent to his words.

"I-uh." She swallowed uncertain what to say to that. "Well, you - you **did** ask me to - I mean -."

But as she spoke he began moving closer to her, slowly with cat like tension in his body.

She stammered nervously, "I - uh...I...I should…I mean, I can go. If you…." As he neared her she felt the blood rush to her face in embarrassment.

The look in his eyes...it was so passionate, so - feral. Suddenly she felt the blood rush to all points south with a terrible insistent ache in her groin area. Her knees felt weak and as she met his smoldering gaze she was certain she would faint at any moment.

"I propose we remedy this situation - by - making - you - mine." and he lunged for her with a hungry growl that at once frightened and excited her.

In an instant his hands were lost in a tangle of her short dark hair. His mouth found hers and pressed passionately, insistently. It was wild and delicious and she responded with a gasping moan against his lips.

She absently noted the thick purple soup had spilled on the table as he had grabbed her. But in the frenzy of the moment it seemed inconsequential.

A breathless moment later she found herself scooped up into his arms and responded with a delighted squeal as she was deposited on his bed in the dark corner of his cabin.

His eyes were dark and amused as he pressed her down on the bed with insistent kisses down her throat to the broad expanse of skin that the uniform exposed across her chest. He stretched out along side her pressing his body against hers, a leg draped possessively over her body. She didn't hesitate to slide her hands over his body in response, one hand lost in the dark silken strands of his hair clutching him to her breast.

Each kiss, each caress seemed to be an unending circle of pleasure. She could almost hear his delight at the amount of skin that the deep of the neckline offered.

The damnable uniform that had been a curse for so many years now offered broad access to bare skin. Then his hand slid up her thigh to the regulation satin hot pants. And there was no doubt they were feeling hot.

In fact the entire skimpy powder puff blue monstrosity seemed entirely too heavy at the moment she thought deliriously.

With surprising ease, his hands found the hidden enclosure in the back of the dress and he tenderly slid a single finger down it's length releasing it. She shivered at the sensation of his finger tracing a line down her shoulder, her back and finally over the curve of her backside. Then his hand slid up to her shoulder and tugged the uniform forward and off one smooth white shoulder. He shifted from kissing down into the plunge of the uniform directly up to her bare shoulder.

She moaned now, "Oh Spock. Oooh." at the sensation of his lips on her bare skin.

As the uniform slid down further he lifted his head and raised an eyebrow in surprise. She wore no brassiere beneath the pale blue satin. A smile tugged at his mouth, "Miss Chapel, you are out of uniform." He said in mock reproach.

She smiled slyly at him and reached up to the neck of the dress, "Not quite, **sir**. But I will be in a moment." And with practiced ease she pulled the dress completely off. She lay back in nothing but the gargantuan blue satin hot pants and black boots.

He shot her a look that was equal parts amusement and appreciation as he slid his hand over her breast and down her belly to cup her hip. He slid his thumb under the edge of the waistband, "I believe these are also Starfleet issue?" and he slid them down her legs. It took only a moment for him to remove her boots with equal amusement and thick seduction.

With a playful laugh she fell back onto his bed, "Now I'm out of uniform." He crouched at the foot of the bed where he had dropped the boots and he paused to watch her for a moment. Sensing the scrutiny she looked up and caught his gaze. "What?" she asked suddenly self-conscious.

"I have never seen you this way." He said evenly, but his look belied none of the emotions that motivated the comment and her self-consciousness grew for a moment.

With a distinctly wicked twinkle in his eye, he moved finally. He rose up, standing up tall at the foot of the bed and pulled his dark uniform t-shirt up and over his head in a smooth movement. Holding her gaze he hooked his thumbs on the sides of his trousers and with a surprisingly seductive motion slid his pants down taking the simple Starfleet issue briefs with them. Then with immense efficiency he was crawling up the bed and over a wide-eyed Christine Chapel, his eyes never leaving hers.

As his face came up to hers and he was propped a few inches over her body on hands and knees she smiled sweetly, unable to resist one last joke, "Why Mr. Spock, I never knew you-"

But her words were lost in the press of his kiss as he quite deliberately lowered himself onto her. His tongue darted past her lips and she lost her self to the sensation of running her hands down the sculpted muscles of his back. Spock kissed her neck again and she ran her hand up into his hair, tousling it a bit. Spock looked deeply into her eyes and she was distracted for an instant as each strand fell magically back into place over his arched brow.

"Christine" he murmured and with a gently pained expression he slipped into her body in a smooth motion. She gasped. Closing her eyes now she let herself go, enjoying the sweet pressure and rhythm of his body in hers. For a long time they moved together unhurried, gently, lovingly.

"Oh Spock," She answered pulling him tightly against her, lifting a leg to wrap around his waist. He shifted now, thrusting more deeply with more urgency. Her hand slid down to the curve of his butt pulling harder against her body, urging him on. "Oh dear god." She gasped as he answered her with an answering passionate thrust. But she clung to him more, lifting her other leg to wrap around his waist. The pressure was rising in her.

Spock rose up on his knees now and lifted her hips up easily with Vulcan strength.

He was an overwhelming sight towering over her, holding her firmly in his hands, thrusting now with abandon into her body. His piercing gaze seemed to see through her being, willing even more pleasure into her.

Then she was gasping, unable to draw enough breath to even moan. Each moment she was closer and closer to the edge. His gaze seemed distant now, as if his own body's pleasure was overwhelming him, his lips parted and she could hear his breath coming in short gasps as well.

Finally it was too much. Whether it was the sight of him lost in the pleasure of her body or the delicious friction was impossible to tell. She felt with detached delight the world narrow to her body and the center of her being where he joined her lost in pleasure. "Ah, Spock. Aaah." She threw back her head with a triumphant cry.

And she was rewarded with his hissing exclamation "Yesss!" as he pressed on again and again into her, not yet lost pushing her further over the edge.

She reached up to him, suddenly needing to feel his body against hers, needing to taste his mouth. "Spock." She pleaded and he fell onto her. His own body suddenly awash in climax as well.

He prudently clutched the pillow beneath her head, lest his momentary loss of control bruise her tender flesh. His body arched and thrust into hers and she clung to him with wordless cries into his hair, holding him as tightly as she could.

As shuddering moment later it was over. She felt him relax a bit, could hear the fabric of the pillow beneath her head shift as he loosened his grip and he relaxed even more.

She sighed into his ear, fairly purring with exhausted pleasure. He shifted lightly off of her and lay on his side snuggly against her body propped up on one elbow.

She smiled wickedly at him and pecked him on the cheek. "Thank you, Spock. That was wonderful."

His face relaxed and amused he traced her jaw line with one finger affectionately, "You are quite welcome, Christine. I found it to be most - stimulating as well."

She laughed at his knack for understatement, "Yes, stimulating."

He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

She smiled bashfully, "I know its kind of silly, but I always did wonder what would have happened if I had stayed that day."

He lifted his head to look seriously into her eyes. "Certainly, you recognize that the end result would not have been..."

"Oh good lord no, Spock. I know what would have happened wouldn't have been anything like this. We were different people then. But it's a nice little fantasy."

"Indeed. And I must also admit to a new appreciation for the old style nurse's uniform."

"Oh really?" she teased. "I hadn't noticed."

"I shall have to submit a request to Starfleet that the medical personnel return to the original design."

"Oh no you don't mister! I don't mind playing nurse here in your quarters, but I'll be damned if I'll beam down to another planet in that get up."

"Then I retract my suggestion. Perhaps it is best to utilize its most attractive features here."

Her tone shifted into seduction, "Oh and what would those 'attractive features' be, my love?"

His hands slid over her body emphasizing his compliments, "The flattering fit against your skin, the amount of flesh that is easily accessible to the touch. It is also worth noting that while the bodice is extremely efficient in pointing out" He leaned in and kissed one dark taut nipple, "your most adequate breasts, the skirt most attractively enhances your posterior. It has just enough suggestion of accessibility as to be distracting but not enough to be obscene." His hand slid appreciatively over the curve of her backside as he spoke.

"Well-well-well, my dear Spock. I didn't know you were a T and A man!"

"T and A?"

She chuckled, "Tits and ass, my dear. Breasts and bottoms."

"I do not approve of such language, Christine." He answered with a measured reproach.

"I see, but you do approve of the shape of my - " and he stopped her with a finger over her lips. Her eyes continued to dance with mischief, but she silenced.

"I am what I am, Christine. If my appreciation is somewhat stereotypical I shall hope that you are willing accept it. My preferences be no worse than any other man's."

She laughed out loud at this and pulled him to her with a kiss.

"Oh yes, beloved. I would more than willing to live with your _appreciation_."

"And the uniform?"

She narrowed her eyes, "What about it?"

"Will you wear it again?"

"Why, are you feeling like you need a _physical_?"

He effected a grave expression, "I do believe I feel the beginnings of a fever, Doctor."

"Hmph. If it's a doctor you want, I'll have to get my new uniform out." and she made to rise from his bed. He pulled her down to the bed again.

"I do not believe that will be necessary, **Nurse** Chapel."

She tried to pout but he kissed her mouth firmly.

She drew away slightly, "I don't wanna be the nurse this time." then she smiled wickedly, "Here. You wear it." and she lifted it from where it lay on the floor and flung it playfully at him.

He caught it with one hand and with a stern look replied, "I do not find the prospect inviting."

She laughed again and fell into his arms. "Alright, I'll wear it. It's a better fit on me I'm sure."

"Of that there is no doubt." He nuzzled against her shoulder affectionately.

"But next time I'm here." and she kissed him.

"Very well." He pulled her down to rest on his shoulder.

"Thanks for being so careful with it, I don't know where I'd get another one. They don't make them anymore you know."

He twisted a small lock of her hair in his fingers, "Unfortunate." He responded absently.

She could hear the sleepiness in his voice. Not that he would ever just roll over and go to sleep, but she knew he had been pulling long shifts and it was time for them both to call it a night.

"Well, Love. I should probably go." She said reluctantly.

"Stay." He said holding her possessively close.

She sighed into his arms, wanting so much to do just that. She hated being the voice of reason in these moments. "My dear, I have to go or I'll fall asleep here. What would you do if Jim came in and found us together?"

He sighed, lips together in a thin line. It was a tiresome dispute, "Contrary to ship's gossip, Jim does not enter my quarters unannounced, Christine."

"I **know** that, but he sure expects to get in here in a hurry. What if he buzzed the comm and then just walked in?"

"He would not do that."

"Not normally, but what if it was something really, really important. It could happen. What would you do then?"

He sighed, exasperated. He would not win this time, "I would ask him if he brought enough coffee for both of us." He said with resigned amusement.

"Ooooh, you're impossible." and she tried to rise again.

He held her tight to his side. Where reason failed, brute strength could be a persuasive negotiator.

"C'mon Spock. You're tired, I'm tired. We've got duty in the morning. I'd look highly suspicious coming out of your quarters in the morning. Everyone knows I don't have any business on the command deck in the morning. Please, don't make this harder than it is."

And he released her.

She gazed down into his eyes and her own mirrored her sadness.

"I'm sorry, you know I am." She said reaching out to brush his cheek.

He caught her hand and kissed it lightly, "As am I." He acknowledged.

He watched her dress in silence, sitting on the edge of the bed comfortably naked.

When she finally brushed her hands through her hair one last time, satisfied that it was presentable enough in the unlikely even that she would run into someone in the hall, she turned to face him.

She wore simple comfortable off duty clothes that she had sent to his quarters earlier in the week when they began planning this little fantasy. The blue satin uniform lay on the bed.

She moved to retrieve it, but he stopped her by pulling her back down onto him on the bed and rolling over her once again.

She looked surprised but not displeased up at him, "I could keep you here by force." He whispered. She could see that a part of him desperately wanted to and she was immeasurably flattered.

"Yes, you could. But you know I'm not ready for that. Not yet."

He kissed her with power and passion and for a moment she thought he just might convince her. Then the images of their friends came to mind. Jim and Leonard would tease them insufferably. Ny would begin the great push for details on when the long-term plans were going to come. Her mother would….Her mother! Dear lord she didn't want to tell her mother **ever**. And she pushed him firmly away. "Please stop. I need to go."

He rolled off of her helplessly and watched her rise. He could sense the anxiety in her, but knew that she just wasn't ready to talk about it. It was pointless to press the matter and it could very well spoil a perfectly pleasant evening.

She turned to face him, her face hard now but he was there with a tender hug and a gentle kiss.

"As I said, thank you for a most pleasant evening, Doctor."

She relaxed immediately. "Thank you, Spock for playing along with me. It was fun. Shall I take the uniform?"

He shook his head, "Leave it. It will be my insurance that you return."

"Oh I'll be back. You can count on it!"

He kissed her again, "When?" he asked wanting a more solid commitment from her.

Regret and guilt flashed over her face, "Oh Spock, I don't know. We've got that mission to Triskelion next week so you'll be busy. I've got the contingent from the California here this week learning about our lab methodology. I barely got away this evening. Oh, but I promise we'll get together as soon as we can."

He nodded his acceptance. It was difficult to form a relationship on a busy starship and keep it a secret. There were precious few moments that could be stolen away, fewer still that friends would not notice.

He kissed her again and then released her and moved to the door panel to check the corridor. It was clear. Using his command override he released the seal on the door and gave her a significant look.

She looked up with a smile, "Goodnight, Love." And she blew him a kiss as she marched through the doors.

He nodded gravely, "Goodnight Beloved." He responded and the doors closed behind her, but not before he caught a surprised look over her shoulder.

It was the first time he had called her anything but her name or title.

Beloved. She smiled to herself in the turbolift.

She liked it.


End file.
